


58 Days

by purple_bookcover



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Is this a slow burn?, M/M, Pandemics, Quarantine, Roommates, Slow Burn, i dunno but they dance around each other for a long time, stuck in quarantine together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover
Summary: When Sylvain moves out, Felix has no choice but to let his high school crush, Ashe, move in. The next day, a quarantine begins, trapping the awkward new roommates in this house together for who knows how long.It starts out awkward.It gets worse.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 18
Kudos: 83





	58 Days

**Author's Note:**

> This is a silly fluff thing in which I vent some of my pandemic frustrations in an irreverent way. 
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: If you don't want to read about a lockdown/quarantine that is very much modeled off real life right now, please don't read this fic.

**Day 58**

Felix did not know how he had come to be sitting knee-to-knee with his crush in nothing but boxer shorts, but he did know when this spiral into his own personal hell began. 

**Day 0**

“Oh, that one’s heavy. You can just set it down anywhere.” 

Felix clung to the box, a bulwark against that voice calling softly to him across the living room. His knuckles went white as he pressed the cardboard against the fluttering wings trying to beat out of his chest. 

“Here, let me help you,” Ashe said. 

He started toward Felix and Felix nearly threw the box to the floor. “It’s fine. I’ll get the last one.” 

He turned before Ashe could speak again, before he could offer one single word more in that gods damned gentle voice, that voice Felix could pluck out of any crowd, that voice Felix could have found in the middle of a concert. 

The cool air outside calmed him. He focused on jogging to the car at the curb and scooping the last box out of the passenger seat. Another heavy one, from the feel of it, but it didn’t matter. Felix just needed something to hold, something to keep him steady. 

He sighed. This was ridiculous. Ashe was helping him. Saving him, even. 

Sylvain had left abruptly to live with some girl. It would only last a month or two or four. But either way it put Felix on the hook for the entirety of the rent they paid for an old two-bedroom, one-story house with a narrow backyard, a cozy kitchen and creaking floorboards. 

When Felix had posted about the sudden vacancy on social media, Ashe had been the first – and only – person to respond seriously. 

And that should have been great. That should have been an unlikely stroke of tremendous good fortune. But...

But. 

Felix stepped back into the house. Ashe looked up when the floorboards creaked under Felix’s feet. He didn’t speak, but it didn’t matter. Now it was bright, jade-colored eyes sending butterflies battering at Felix’s chest. 

“Sorry,” Ashe said. “I think that one’s pretty heavy too. It should be the last one though.” 

Felix set it on the floor. “It was.”

“Great. Thank you so much for your help. You didn’t need to do that.”

Felix shrugged. He looked at the droning television instead of his new roommate. Even the dreary monotone of words he’d heard too frequently of late was less harrowing than acknowledging that he was living with his high school crush. “Shelter-in-place.” “Quarantine.” “Lockdown.” All words Felix would choose over “Ashe.” 

“Pretty bleak,” Ashe murmured. 

Felix struggled not to startle. He hadn’t even heard Ashe slide up beside him to stand behind the couch and regard the depressing news report. 

“Yeah,” Felix said. 

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” Ashe said. “Especially with the timing. I really didn’t know what I was going to do.” 

Ashe was looking at him with those damned eyes of his again. 

“It’s fine,” Felix said.

Ashe shook his head. “You have no idea. My lease ends tomorrow. I really wondered if I’d be sleeping in my car again.”

Felix grimaced at that. In high school, he’d had only a vague sense of how tough Ashe’s home life was, if raising your own siblings as a child yourself could even be called a home life. He had no doubt Ashe really had slept in his car more than once. 

“It helps me too,” Felix offered. “With Sylvain leaving and all.” 

Ashe’s smile was genuine, as though he hadn’t discussed the prospect of homelessness only moments ago. “Yeah, it worked out pretty great.” 

**Day 58**

Felix could think of several words for the past 58 days. “Pretty great” were none of them.

“Are you ready?” Ashe said. “Hold out your hands.”

Ashe held out his own as though demonstrating, then waited, face pleasantly neutral, like sitting on the floor nearly naked like this was anything but fucking bizarre. 

Felix exhaled a sigh. “Fine.” He extended his hands.

**Day 11**

Felix had a plan. Felix always had a plan. It kept things contained, controlled. Especially things he didn’t understand, like the way his stomach started somersaulting every time his new roommate caught him staring from across the room. 

The plan – the _plan_ – had been to take this slow. Get to know Ashe in short, safe blips. A hello after work, beers on the couch while watching TV, ordering in one night – slowly escalating to an intentional movie night, to planned, structured time together. As roommates. 

Felix’s plan never accounted for “shelter-in-place” orders. 

There was no “after work” anymore. No trips to the gym, no swinging by the grocery store for those friendly beers, no ordering in as a contrast to going out. 

There was just inside. Together. Day after day. 

That was not the plan.

Felix peeked out of his room before leaving it. Ashe was still lying on the couch, exactly where he’d been an hour ago, flipping through the same book. 

Felix’s stomach grumbled as though urging him on. This was ridiculous. He had to eat. In his own damn home. 

He crept from his room and veered toward the kitchen. He’d have to pass right by Ashe to reach it, a harrowing prospect. 

Felix was so bound up with nerves he was almost surprised to stand in his own kitchen. He looked around, suddenly at a complete loss. He knew he was hungry, but had no direction for that hunger. There were baked goods everywhere – cookies, brownies, fresh bread, even a cake. Apparently, Ashe cured his boredom with baking and books, and lots of both. 

“Hungry?”

Felix nearly leapt out of his skin. When he turned, he found Ashe peering at him over his book. 

“A bit,” he said. 

“I was thinking of cooking something,” Ashe said. 

“Oh, uh, you don’t need to do that.” 

Ashe shrugged. “What am I doing instead?” 

It was a reasonable point, one Felix had to concede, but Ashe had been cooking a lot these past two weeks and Felix was beginning to feel the weight of a debt he had no means of repaying. 

Ashe was already on his feet, setting his book aside with a ribbon nestled between the pages. “Hungry for anything in particular?” he said as he bustled into the kitchen. 

“I, uh, I’m not sure. I don’t really … care.” _Stupid. Stupid!_

Ashe seemed unphased. He was rummaging through the cabinets. “Lots of mac ‘n’ cheese left. Pasta. Chili. Not very exciting.”

“It’s fine. Anything. It’s...”

“How about homemade mac ‘n’ cheese? It’s a little better than the box.”

“Sure.” Felix would have said yes to just about anything then, anything that would spare him having to say another word about food or cooking. 

Ashe began to flit around the kitchen, retrieving a baking dish, noodles and cheese. Once he progressed past those base ingredients, Felix backed away, retreating to the living room. He might have felt relieved – he’d managed to scurry out of his room and engage Ashe without making too much of an ass out of himself – but the guilt he felt as he heard Ashe preparing yet another meal for him forbid any respite.

After only a few minutes, Felix abandoned his attempt to distract himself with his phone. There was little to be found there aside from depressing news articles and petty internet fights. With a sigh, Felix set the device and its dour tidings aside, rising to return to the kitchen.

“Let me help,” Felix said. 

“Oh,” Ashe said, looking up from mixing something. “You don’t need to.”

“No,” Felix said, “I do. Tell me what to do.”

Ashe regarded him a moment. Felix struggled not to squirm under the scrutiny of eyes like a bed of moss, soft and flecked with sunlight. Ashe smiled, shrugging a shoulder. “Sure. Here.” He held out a spoon. “Mix.” 

**Day 58**

Felix’s hands hovered over Ashe’s a moment. A wave of anxiety rolled over him, leaving him sweating and chilled all at once. The breath of space between Felix’s hands and Ashe’s was all that remained. Once he crossed that invisible barrier, he knew there’d be no turning back.

“You don’t have to,” Ashe said. 

“No, it’s fine,” Felix said.

“Are you sure? You seem uncomfortable.” 

He looked up, meeting Ashe’s eyes. “I’m sure.”

**Day 20**

Three weeks ago, they’d said the lockdown would last a week. Then it became two weeks. A month. Three months. Six. Now, people were talking about next year and Felix was wondering if he would die from awkwardness or embarrassment first. 

_How’s the roomie?_

It was Sylvain. It was _always_ Sylvain. 

Felix tossed his phone to the end of his bed, trying to ignore it as it buzzed again. Sylvain seemingly had nothing better to do now that he and Felix and everyone else was stuck at home. Teasing Felix for his predicament under the guise of “checking up on him” seemed to have become Sylvain’s primary means of entertainment. 

Felix startled when he heard a soft tapping at his door. 

“Uh, come in?”

Ashe peeked in the door, a box hugged to his chest. “Sorry if I’m bothering you. I was just wondering if you’d want to play a game.”

“A game?”

Ashe stepped fully into the bedroom, brandishing a box with a drawing of some sort of quilt on it. “Yeah, it’s called Patchwork. You, uh, make a quilt. Kind of.”

“That’s a game?”

“It’s fun,” Ashe said. “Well, I think it’s fun. And it’s good for two people. And I figured you’re probably about as bored as me, so...” 

Felix’s phone buzzed at the far end of the bed. He ignored it, standing, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sure,” he huffed, “let’s go play.” 

Ashe brightened, but an instant later his eyes flickered toward the phone. “Do you need to get that?” 

“No.”

He ushered Ashe out of the room. They set up in the living room, sitting on the floor around the coffee table. It was a beautiful day. Birds flitted by the window, searching for material for nests. Trees were just beginning to bloom; white petals blew by in a flurry as a warm spring wind kicked up. 

Felix looked away. It was almost painful to see how gorgeous it was as winter thawed into spring. Instead, he focused on the little boards Ashe was setting up, the pieces he was arranging in a circle. 

“So, the goal of the game is to make a quilt using these pieces...” 

Felix tried to listen, he really did, but something about the sunlight warming the living room and the softness of Ashe’s voice and the soothing cadence of the simple instructions lulled Felix. He didn’t realize he wasn’t listening until Ashe stopped.

“That make sense?”

Felix blinked, shaking himself out of the warm fog that had settled over his mind. “Sure.”

“It’ll make sense as we go,” Ashe said. “I’ll start, just so you can see how it works.”

Ashe did most of the playing for that first round, with Felix only truly retaining the rules and strategies by the end. With little else to do, they played a couple more rounds. Felix became a little more competent each time; by game three he even felt a nagging competitiveness. 

“Hey, you won,” Ashe said. “You’re good at this.” 

“I...”

“Wanna play a different one? It seems like you’ve got this one figured out.”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Come on,” Ashe said. He scooped up the game board and pieces, quickly stowing them away in their box.

Felix followed Ashe to his bedroom. He paused in the doorway, suddenly unsure. He hadn’t actually ever seen Ashe’s room since he’d moved in. There was no reason. But even if there was, it felt far too intimate for comfort. 

Ashe didn’t seem to mind. He rummaged through a box beside his bed, looking over his shoulder at Felix. “Sorry, I didn’t unpack this one yet. Not like I don’t have time these days, but--” He shrugged. “Come see if any of them look fun.”

Felix stepped into the room like he was entering a foreign country, one he definitely wasn’t supposed to be in. He swore the very air changed, suddenly infused with something distinctly _Ashe-like_. It was a scent Felix knew, vaguely, but now it was everywhere and it left his head light. 

He kneeled on the floor beside the box. Ashe was already digging through it, setting some games aside as he reached for different ones.

“This one is a little complicated,” Ashe murmured. “And you really need four players for this...”

Felix didn’t realize he was watching Ashe’s hands working until Ashe held up a box. 

“How about this one?” 

Felix blinked. “Uh ... sure.” 

Ashe’s smile was sympathetic. “This doesn’t seem like it’s your thing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be forcing you to play my silly games.”

 _That’s not it._ But he couldn’t say that, dared not say that, and now Ashe was looking at him apologetically and stowing the games back in their box, issuing excuses and reassurances.

Felix had fucked up. All he’d had to do was act even mildly interested and he’d fucked it up so badly that now he was standing, echoing empty phrases as he backed out of Ashe’s room.

**Day 58**

For a moment, Ashe didn’t move, just left Felix’s hands resting in his. Ashe’s hands were warm and slick, coated in some kind of oil that smelled faintly of a flower Felix couldn’t name. 

Ashe rubbed Felix’s palms, then switched to coat the top of his hands as well. Then, he took one of Felix’s hands in both of his.

**Day 35**

Felix had almost immediately started constructing a makeshift home gym. Being entirely cut off from the one thing that left his mind sedate and uncluttered was not an option.

But curling milk jugs and tying socks full of quarters to his ankles to use as weights lost its allure pretty quickly. He soon found himself limited not just by equipment, but, for the first time in his life, by motivation.

Today, he was determined to conquer that unfamiliar foe.

He fit two pieces of wood together, holding them in place while he eyed up the connection. It would work. Probably. According to the YouTube video paused on his phone.

Well, it didn’t really matter if it failed, did it? Felix lined up screws, drilling them in with a power tool he’d gotten years ago from his father and never fathomed using. If it weren’t for, you know, the whole world going up in flames, he might have even been right about that assumption.

As it was, he was begrudgingly grateful for the drill. And the random assortment of screws and boards that had collected in the house’s garage starting long before he and Sylvain moved in.

A few hours later he was shirtless, sweaty and in possession of a passable ... well, it was something at least. He could not help but doubt the structure’s stability when he stood it up. It was just taller than him, with a beam across the top connected to two tall legs, like the skeleton of a door frame.

“What is it?”

He turned, finding Ashe in the doorway that led from the kitchen to the backyard. He was appraising Felix’s strange project and not Felix himself. Even so, Felix suddenly felt accurately aware of his bare torso, not as toned as it used to be, left to soften by the long, monotonous, dreary days stuck inside.

“It’s, uh, it’s supposed to be a pull-up bar,” Felix said.

“Like the kind you hang in a doorway?”

“Sort of,” Felix said. “It’s ... a little more complicated. And our doorways can’t mount the store bought bars. So...”

“Wow, cool.”

Felix expected a hint of mockery, but Ashe was absolutely sincere as he pushed away from the door and approached the wooden frame. He even reached up for the board across the top, standing on tip toes to mimic doing an actual pull-up.

“Maybe I’ll get buff like you now,” he said, laughing.

He had no idea.

Felix had been eyeing up his arms as he pretended to do a pull-up. They were far, far too nice for someone who claimed they worked out so little. What the hell was Ashe doing to casually, passively get arms like cords of rope?

Ashe dropped back down to flat feet. “Will you show me?”

“S-show you?”

Ashe shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sure there’s some technique to it. Might as well learn while there’s nothing else to do and I’m living with an expert.”

Felix’s breath got trapped in his chest. This was some sort of fucked up joke, right? But nothing about Ashe, from his inquisitive eyes to the pleasant smile on his lips, looked anything but sincere. As always. Even in high school, when he had the excuse of being a shithead teenage boy, Ashe had never taken the bait.

“I need to...” Felix waved at the contraption, forgetting half the words he needed.

“Oh! The bar itself. Yeah, that was dumb of me.”

“It’s fine. It’ll only take a second.”

Felix stood on a stepladder to position the pull-up bar before screwing it securely in place. Then he placed some bags of sand and milk jugs full of water on the back of the structure to counterbalance it.

Felix tested the pull-up bar first, doing a few quick chin ups just to ensure the whole rig wasn’t in danger of tottering over. When he released, dropping back to the ground, Ashe was watching him, lips slightly parted.

They both jerked a little. Felix rushed to cover up the awkwardness.

“Do you want to ... try it?”

“Oh,” Ashe said. “Sure. Yeah. Tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

Ashe stepped up, getting on tip toes to reach the bar. He swung his body a little before attempting the pull-up and the whole rig rocked.

Felix grabbed instinctively for Ashe’s waist, stopping his motion. Just as hastily, he released him.

“Maybe ... try it static,” Felix said.

“Right, heh.”

This time, Ashe pulled from a dead hang, but his elbows bowed out.

Felix couldn’t help it. He reached for Ashe’s elbows, guiding them away from the crazy angle they were attempting. Once Ashe’s arms were straight, Felix touched Ashe’s shoulders.

“Start here,” he said. “Engage your shoulders. Get your head up away from them. Your back is doing a lot of the work here.”

Ashe was a quick study, his form instantly improving. Felix used a few tactile cues to keep him pulling from the shoulders and back and he managed a pretty respectable pull-up, though he dropped back to the ground after just one. Before Felix could so much as blink, Ashe had shrugged off his shirt and tossed it aside.

“I see why you ditched the shirt,” Ashe said. “This is sweaty work.”

Felix didn’t even attempt to respond. He was too busy tracing freckles down Ashe’s neck to his chest and shoulders and abdomen and - oh no. Felix shook himself, looking up at the bar instead of at his shirtless roommate. It wasn’t like Sylvain hadn’t strutted around half-naked most days. But that was different. That was Sylvain. This was Ashe, whom he’d dreamed of seeing this way since they were both stupid teenagers.

Ashe was already back on the bar and apparently awaiting Felix’s cues. Felix took a breath. His hands weren’t shaking. He was just tired from building the rig all day. That’s all. Definitely.

“Is this right?” Ashe attempted to look over his shoulder, even while engaging for the pull-up.

Instinct kicked in at last. Felix touched lightly at the sides of Ashe’s neck. “Head up out of your shoulders.”

It became easier. If Felix’s heart was still hammering against his chest like it was frantic to get out, well, at least he could focus on correcting Ashe’s form now, on something more comfortable. Something safe.

It wasn’t until later, much later, that he let that hammering take over his thoughts, lying in bed and staring at his own hand, remembering the warmth of Ashe’s skin against his own.

**Day 58**

Ashe started massaging the hand he held. At first, Felix thought we was just going to rub that oil all over. Pleasant, Felix supposed, but not really all that special.

But then Ashe started applying pressure, even getting between Felix’s fingers, squeezing and rubbing each in turn, and Felix never knew until that moment just how sensitive a single hand could be. 

**Day 47**

Felix was doing push-ups in the living room when his hair fell into his face. Again.

It seemed no matter how he tried to tie it back, it always found a way to slip free. He’d been due for a trim before this all began. And now. Now it was a beast he had little control over.

He finished up his set of push-ups. But rather than moving to the next exercise, he remained on the floor, leaning against the couch as he searched for videos and tutorials about how to cut his own hair. It couldn’t be that hard, right? It was just a trim to get it out of his eyes. Surely he could figure out that much.

He was still watching videos on the floor when Ashe came in from the backyard. Felix could tell from the dirt on his hands that he’d been about his gardening project again, as he was most days now.

Time and isolation had eased the initial awkwardness between them. Felix offered a friendly nod when Ashe entered the house and went to clean his hands in the bathroom.

Things were nowhere near as bad as they had been initially for Felix. In truth, he liked having Ashe around. He had a calming presence; even on the worst days Ashe never seemed overly upset about any of this. Plus, he gardened, he baked, he even fixed the wobbly door handle Felix had been ignoring for years. He was everything Felix could want in a roommate. And if Felix sometimes awoke from yet another dream about the day they’d done pull-ups shirtless in the back yard, that was Felix’s problem, and one Ashe would hopefully never know about.

At least now time and necessity had softened the feelings. Felix was no longer consumed with panic every time Ashe smiled at or brushed against him. He could ... deal with it later.

Ashe emerged from the bathroom, plopping onto the couch above where Felix leaned against it.

“A haircut, huh?” he said.

“It’s getting out of control,” Felix said.

Ashe laughed. “I like it.”

OK, that one got to him. Just a little. Felix stuffed it down. “It’s way too long.”

Felix choked on a yelp when he felt Ashe casually ruffle his hair, holding up a clump. “It’s kinda long. I guess I could see how it could get annoying.”

Ashe let the hair fall and Felix breathed a little easier.

“I could help, if you want,” Ashe said.

Felix twisted to face him. “Really?”

“Yeah, I used to trim my siblings’ hair all the time. I did mine a couple weeks ago.” He tucked silver hair behind his ear in a gesture that went right to Felix’s gut. In truth, Felix hadn’t noticed any change. He just assumed Ashe’s hair was always tidy and well-kept.

“OK.” Felix really did need a haircut. Plus, it would mean Ashe touched his hair more and that... _No, just a haircut. Don’t think about the rest._

Ashe jumped up. He seemed genuinely excited by the prospect of cutting Felix’s hair. In moments, he had a chair sitting on a bedsheet, a comb, scissors and a cup of water. Ashe gestured at the haphazard setup like it was the finest salon in the world. And for Felix’s money, it truly was.

“Have a seat,” Ashe said.

Felix settled nervously in the chair. Ashe put a towel around his neck, then took his hair out of its usual bun. Felix heard a sharp inhale.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Ashe said. “I’ve just never seen it all down. It really is beautiful, Felix. Do you mind if I comb it out a little?”

Felix wasn’t sure how he felt about being called beautiful - or any of this, really - so he merely nodded.

Then he felt the comb whispering through his hair, prickling his scalp before gliding down. It sent tingles from his head all the way through his body, pleasant tingles like the memory of a hug making its way over every inch of his skin.

He felt goosebumps rise on his arms as Ashe continued. They both knew Ashe was being far more thorough with the combing than strictly necessary but Felix was loath to stop him. He used his hands as well, sometimes running his fingers through a ribbon of hair he’d finished combing. He could not possibly realize how wonderful those fingers felt, the tremors they sent chasing after the tingles already warming Felix to his core.

At some point, Felix realized his eyes were closed, but he had no desire to open them. Ashe abandoned the comb. He lifted Felix’s hair in one hand, letting it drop into the other. After repeating the process a few times, his hands snuck to Felix’s shoulders, running over them like he was trying to smooth the knots out of those, too.

“Head out of your shoulders,” Ashe said, laughter in his voice. “Take your own advice.”

Felix relaxed his shoulders. He heard the comb clink in the cup of water, then felt Ashe move around him.

“Keep your eyes closed.” Ashe was right in front of him now, so close Felix could smell the mint he’d been planting in the backyard. He straightened Felix’s bangs with the wet comb, murmuring to himself as he sized them up.

Then Ashe took some hair between his fingers, his hand so close the heat of his skin brushed against Felix's face. The scissors clicked as Ashe contemplated the cut.

And it was all just so ... so ... Felix’s shoulders melted down his back, years of tension relenting at last. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had human contact like this. The time before lockdown seemed a lifetime away. Ashe’s hands were simultaneously sure and gentle, confident and hesitating. Ashe’s little murmurs and hums as he worked thrummed in Felix’s chest, a sweet, disjointed melody. And it was all so...

“Oh.”

_Oh._

_Oh shit._

Felix jerked away, shoving the chair back. Luckily, Ashe had been holding the scissors lightly and they clattered harmlessly to the floor, but just then Felix really didn’t care about physical harm. He took off the towel, backing away like Ashe was a snake that might bite him. But then again, it wasn’t Ashe who was the problem here. It was Felix. Felix and his traitor body and the painfully obvious way it had reacted to Ashe’s closeness. 

Ashe was still staring at him stunned when Felix rushed away, retreating to his room and resolving to never leave it again. 

**Day 58**

Ashe kneaded into Felix’s palm, releasing tension Felix had never even guessed existed. He pulled on each of Felix’s fingers, almost painful, until it became intensely soothing instead. 

By the time Ashe switched to Felix’s other hand, Felix was holding up his own hand, the one Ashe had already worked, marveling at how different it felt just from some oil and some weird circling motions.

“Not bad, huh?” Ashe said.

Felix swallowed and shook his head.

Ashe started on the other hand.

**Day 49**

Felix only left his room at night, sneaking out to grab something to sate his grumbling stomach when he was sure Ashe was asleep. 

It had been two days since _the incident_ and he’d still sooner die than face Ashe directly. Ashe was probably trying to move out, despite the restrictions on that kind of thing. Felix couldn’t even blame him for thinking that sleeping in his car would be better than being stuck in the same house as a guy who couldn’t even handle a haircut. 

He scurried back into his room carrying a hastily made sandwich. Something crinkled under his foot as he shuffled inside and closed the door. Felix found a note beneath his sock.

_Felix,_

_I’m sorry I caused you such discomfort. I really didn’t mean to. Can we talk about this?_

They absolutely could _not_ talk about this. Not now. Not later. Not if the lockdown lasted a hundred years. 

Felix crumpled up the note, tossing it into the waste bin. 

**Day 51**

Another note arrived two days later.

_Please, can we just deal with this and go back to being roommates?_

There was even a bit of freshly baked bread included with the note. 

Felix ate the bread, but threw out the note.

**Day 55**

_Idiot,_ the final note read, _I was flirting with you._

Felix nearly tore his bedroom door off its hinges opening it. 

**Day 56**

It was late when Felix threw open his door, so late Ashe was already asleep. He had to wait all night, pacing in his room like a cat in a carrier, grinding his teeth, working through every possible iteration of the conversation to come. 

None of them adequately prepared him for the reality. 

By morning, he was sitting on the couch, legs jittering, his second cup of coffee nearly depleted before Ashe had even woken up. 

He jerked when he heard Ashe’s door open. Ashe shuffled out, yawning, hair askew. He stopped when he saw Felix, blinked a couple times – and smiled. 

“Finally came out?” Ashe said. “You want breakfast?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m going to make it anyway. Let me just wake up a little.”

Felix was left to wring his hands while Ashe brushed his teeth, made himself some coffee and started cooking. Felix didn’t realize just how little he’d eaten over the past several anxious days until a stack of waffles sat before him and his stomach clenched with a grumble even Ashe could hear. Fresh fruit, more coffee and homemade butter joined the waffles on their living room table. 

Felix dug in. He was hungry, true, but beyond that, Ashe was sitting right next to him like nothing at all was amiss and Felix needed to busy his hands with something, anything, or he might just snap. 

“So, I like you,” Ashe said.

Felix almost spit out his food. 

“I always did,” Ashe said. “I mean, you were a jerk in high school, but a cool, hot jerk. And now you’re cool and hot and not as much of a jerk so...” He shrugged. Actually fucking _shrugged_. And it was all Felix could do just to breathe. 

When he could, Felix responded. “I’m still a little bit of a jerk though.”

Ashe laughed behind his hand. It was a pretty gesture, one that threatened to crack Felix’s composure. 

“Yeah, a little,” Ashe said. “I mean, who disappears for like a week over something like that? And I know you were crumpling up my notes.” 

“I was...”

“Felix.” Ashe set aside his plate and reached for Felix’s hand. Felix startled from the contact and Ashe withdrew. 

Ashe re-positioned so he faced Felix on the couch, tucking his legs up onto the cushions and hugging them against himself. “I said it in my note, but just so we’re clear: I was flirting with you. I mean, the board games. The haircut. The pull-ups. Do you really think I care about pull-up form? I just wanted to be near you. And seeing you with no shirt on wasn’t a terrible bonus, either.” 

Gods, how could Ashe say things like that so matter-of-factly? Felix's face lit up with heat; meanwhile, Ashe sat there regarding him like they were truly just roommates having breakfast. He even reached over for a piece of sliced watermelon and popped it in his mouth while he waited for Felix to respond.

“Fine.”

Ashe laughed, nearly spitting out his watermelon in the process. “Fine? That’s it? That’s what you brooded over for, like, a week?”

“No, but … I … what am I supposed to say?”

Ashe shrugged. “Whatever you want. Whatever’s true. That you like me, that you don’t, that you want me to move out.”

“I don’t want you to move out.”

“Good,” Ashe said, “cuz this is the nicest place I’ve lived in a while, to be honest.”

They fell into a sullen silence, sullen mostly on Felix’s side, annoyingly patient and understanding on Ashe’s. What was Felix supposed to say? He stared at his clasped hands, just wishing this moment would end, wishing he could disappear somehow, wishing he’d never taken the bait and left his room. 

It’s not that he was a virgin or anything. He’d done plenty. But it was just … dumb nonsense. It wasn’t _this_. It never _meant something._ And the implications of that were more terrifying and overwhelming than a simple lay could ever be. 

“How about this,” Ashe said, voice soft, like he was afraid of scaring Felix away if he spoke too loudly. “Can I do something for you?”

Felix chanced a glance over. “Like what?”

“Can I give you a massage?”

Felix blinked rapidly. 

“I’m actually pretty good at it,” Ashe said. “But even if that wasn’t the case, I feel like you communicate better with actions than words. So let me do this. And however you react or respond, that’s fine. We can take it super slow. Even just a hand massage can feel really good. I’ll give you two days to decide, OK?”

**Day 58**

And that’s how Felix found himself here, his hands oily, Ashe working every finger like all the universe’s woes were contained in the tension in those digits. 

Ashe had used to two days to scrounge up the oil, as well as a table with a weird hole at the front. Apparently, he’d been able to get them off a friend, Mercedes, who had been doing massage therapy before it became illegal, dangerous and stupid to go touch a random stranger, even if it was your job.

The table loomed in the living room, ominous, though for now they simply sat on the floor and Ashe touched nothing but Felix’s hands. 

Ashe looked up as he worked. “This still OK?”

Felix nodded. He had to gather himself even to do that. It took another moment before he managed to say, “It feels nice.”

Ashe smiled. “I’m glad.”

He pinched the pulp between Felix’s thumb and the rest of his fingers, giving it a strange little shake that felt far better than it had any right to. Then he set his hands under Felix’s, simply letting them lie there. 

“Do you want something a little more?” Ashe said.

“Like what?”

“Well, if you’re comfortable getting on the table,” Ashe said, “I could do a lot more. We can keep it all waist up if you prefer. You don’t even need to take the boxers off.”

“I, uh...” How did Felix say “yes” and “no” all at once? What word could express how powerfully he wanted Ashe’s hands on him and how terrified he was to voice that?

“Why don’t you hop up and we can just see how it goes?” Ashe said.

A half-measure. Felix could say yes and commit to nothing.

He nodded and Ashe stood. Ashe showed him how to get on the table. The hole, it turned out, was for Felix’s head, so that when he lay on his stomach he didn’t need to turn his neck to do so. 

They started that way. Somehow, not looking at Ashe made it a little easier. Ashe draped a towel over Felix’s lower half nearly to his knees. His voice was even softer than usual when he spoke, as though some sacred ritual had begun that required the reverence of hushed voices. 

“I’m just getting some oil on my hands,” Ashe said. “I warmed it in the microwave a bit so it shouldn’t feel cold. I’ll start on your back and shoulders, OK?”

“Mhm.” A murmur was the most Felix could manage from his position. 

Ashe’s hands were indeed warm when they touched Felix’s back. They started moving in some pattern, sure and purposeful, though Felix could make little sense of it. Ashe rubbed at his shoulders, digging his thumbs in, following the curve of Felix’s shoulder blades. It almost tickled when Ashe made his way down Felix’s sides, but the pressure negated any potential for laughter. 

Then Ashe moved to Felix’s arms. He took one arm in both hands. 

“Let it be heavy,” Ashe said. Felix tried, but a moment later, Ashe said, “Relax. Let it lay in my hands.” Ashe shook Felix’s arm gently. “That’s a little better.”

Felix expected Ashe to rub his arm, or something similar, but instead Ashe pulled on it. It was strange and Felix had to shove down the urge to resist it. And then, just as suddenly, it was good. Really, really good. Whatever connected his arm to his shoulder seemed to release years of tension all at once. When Ashe set his arm back down on the table, it felt long and loose and just _different_.

Felix didn’t realize he’d sighed until he heard a breath of laughter above him. Then Ashe moved to his other side, repeating the whole process. Felix’s back felt warm and loose. The floral fragrance of the oil turned even the air cozy. 

Ashe was rubbing Felix’s neck now. “Are you ready to flip over? You don’t have to.”

“It’s fine,” Felix said. 

He rolled over to lay on his back, the towel still covering him, though it seemed increasingly silly. 

Still, there was something about being able to see Ashe now as he got more oil on his hands, then placed those hands on one of Felix’s shoulders, pushing it down toward the table. Felix hurried to relax, which perhaps defeated the point of relaxing. 

“How did you learn to do this?” Felix said as Ashe worked on his shoulders and collar, hands slowly moving lower. 

“Oh, just books and stuff,” Ashe said. “There were like six months in high school when I thought I wanted to do it for real.”

“You could,” Felix murmured. 

Ashe wasn’t pushing hard and yet he seemed to find every ache and pain and tightness hidden in Felix’s body. He pressed down on Felix’s chest, pushing outward, and Felix swore he took the first full breath of his life. 

“Whoa, what was that?” 

Ashe laughed softly. “You hunch a lot. It creates a lot of tension in here. Just an educated guess.”

“Good guess.”

Ashe hummed to himself. His hands kept making circles on Felix’s chest. Felix suspected it had less and less to do with actual massage as Ashe continued, particularly when he looked up and caught Ashe’s eyes roaming over his bare torso. Felix felt his chest constrict all over again when Ashe chewed on his lip. 

He found Felix watching him. 

“Oh, I, sorry, I’m--”

Felix didn’t let him finish, pulling him down so their lips could meet. It felt like his mouth had been waiting lifetimes for this taste, this pressure, this heat that seeped down his throat and through his body. 

They never truly broke apart, taking frantic sips of air when they could but mostly keeping their mouths locked, lips groping. Ashe actually climbed onto the table, straddling Felix to press even closer. Their hands moved to each other’s hair, searching for purchase as the massage table rocked under them. It was desperate, stupid, frantic, thoughtless. Felix dared not pause for even a moment to consider the dam that had suddenly broken.

Ashe gasped, sitting up. “Oh gods, we might really break it.” But he was laughing even as he said it, his face flushed and bright, his lips rosy from kissing. 

Felix could do little but watch him in wonder, reaching up to tuck silver hair behind his ear. Ashe leaned into the touch of Felix’s fingers along his face, catching Felix’s hand before it could fall away. 

“I wanted to kiss you since the second I moved into this place,” Ashe said. “You have no idea.”

Truly, Felix didn’t. 

“Come to my room,” Ashe said. Then, seeming to realize what he’d said, he hastily added, “If you want to.”

Felix nearly toppled the table when he surged up, crashing their mouths back together, wrapping an arm around Ashe’s waist. They slid and stumbled off the massage table, the towel falling along the way somewhere. They didn’t break in order to totter to Ashe’s bedroom, bumping down the hallway with their limbs still around each other. 

Ashe dragged Felix through the dark room and they fell in a heap onto the bed. In a way, Felix was grateful for the dark. It put a barrier between him and the absolutely mad, desperate thing he was about to do. 

_Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it._

Felix had a terrifying moment of perching over Ashe, looking down at the person he’d wanted since gods damned _high school_ , flushed and eager and breathing hard, looking like he’d devour Felix given half a chance. It sent a shiver through Felix, a delicious shiver that passed through him like a shock of lightning. 

Perhaps Ashe noticed his lingering hesitation. Or perhaps he was just done waiting for Felix.

Either way, he dragged Felix down, flipping them both over even as he brought their lips back together. Ashe kept a hand on the back of Felix’s neck, urging him to stay close. Even when they broke for air, Ashe’s hand remained there, keeping Felix so near their foreheads pressed together. 

Ashe started moving down Felix’s body, trailing kisses over oil-slick skin. Felix could do little but lay back and pant as Ashe worked his way down. He teased the edge of Felix’s boxers, dexterous fingers tugging the elastic. Felix had only and instant to realize that, fuck, this was _actually_ happening, then he was bare.

Ashe did not leave him that way long. His hand was almost instantly on Felix’s hard cock, stroking up and down. His mouth followed, warmth wrapping around Felix as Ashe slid his lips down alongside his hand. 

“Oh, shit,” Felix gasped. It was, embarrassingly enough, a bit of a challenge not to lose it right then and there. He hadn’t realized just how tense and wound up the time spent in quarantine had made him. Ashe’s mouth could easily have undone him then, had Felix not gotten a hand in Ashe’s hair to slow him down. 

He coaxed Ashe up off him. Ashe was smirking like a cat; he even licked his lips. 

That was too much. Felix sat up so he could encourage Ashe out of his boxers, then he started stroking him. Ashe rose up on his knees, holding onto Felix’s shoulders while Felix stayed sitting beneath him. As he pumped, he got to watch Ashe’s mouth widen to a gasp, got to see his eyes flutter shut as his head tilted back, got to observe the swell of his chest dragging in deeper and deeper breaths. Even in the dark, Felix spotted freckles like deeper pinpricks of black flecked across Ashe’s chest and shoulders and arms. He used his free hand to draw Ashe close enough that he could get his mouth on some of those swirling spots, licking at them even while he kept stroking Ashe’s cock. 

This time it was Ashe who put a pause on things. He settled down to sit before Felix, hands lingering on his shoulders. 

“I want to ride you,” Ashe said. 

Felix swallowed. “I...”

“I ... I’ve thought about this so much,” Ashe said. “I’m ... well, you know, I’m prepared and all that.”

“You … you thought about this that much?”

Ashe snorted a laugh. “What the fuck else is there to do? Daydreaming about your hot roommate is as good a way to spend the time as anything else these days.” 

Felix couldn’t argue with that. Nor did he want to. 

He let Ashe nudge him back onto the bed. Ashe reached for the bedside table, returning with a condom and lube. Even as he rolled the condom onto Felix, Ashe smirked at him. Felix lay there helpless to do anything but chew on his lip as Ashe spread lube liberally over Felix’s cock, as well as his own ass. It was like torture just waiting there while Ashe opened himself slowly and deliberately. Ashe offered Felix a wicked smile as he squirmed his fingers inside himself, taking his time, playing with himself right in front of Felix. 

Felix grabbed Ashe, tugging him forward. Ashe gave a surprised little yelp, a bright sound that seized Felix’s heart. 

“Let me help,” Felix said.

Felix groped around for the lube, slicking up his fingers. Ashe shuddered as Felix felt along his rim. He got a finger inside, then two, pressing along tight, warm walls. Ashe writhed back against his hand. 

“Fuck,” Ashe breathed. “I can’t wait any longer. I need you.” 

Felix trembled at that, easing his fingers out. He couldn’t tell which of them was quivering more as Ashe positioned over Felix’s cock, using his hand to angle Felix at his entrance. Their groans intertwined as Felix nudged inside, just a little at first until Ashe was ready to slide down and take more. 

“Oh,” Ashe breathed. “Felix.” 

Felix felt that exhalation containing his name like a warm breeze across his face, like the first fragrance of spring after a long, dark winter. Scent and sensation bloomed around him. Even the dark of this quiet bedroom suddenly seemed brimming with color as Felix squeezed his eyes shut and felt Ashe all around him. 

Ashe started to rock atop him. Once more his hands were on Felix’s chest, but now they were there as a brace, helping Ashe push back to draw Felix deeper. 

Felix ran his hands up Ashe’s strong thighs, felt them straining as Ashe moved atop him, slowly at first, but picking up speed as he got more comfortable. Both their breaths grew ragged, but Ashe was also emitting soft, high whimpers and moans. 

Felix rolled his hips. Ashe gasped in response.

“S-sorry,” Felix managed. “Too much?”

“Gods, no,” Ashe panted. “Do that again. Oh fuck.” 

That was all the encouragement Felix needed. He rocked his hips, moving in time with Ashe, beating out a rhythm played in gasps and shudders and moans. He could fathom no more lovely music than the sound of Ashe’s voice all around him, the sweet song of Ashe’s desire.

Ashe wilted forward, as though he could no longer keep himself up under his own power. Felix planted a foot on the mattress to push up harder and Ashe let out a beautiful yelp. His nails bit into Felix’s shoulders.

Felix squeezed a hand between them, finding Ashe’s quivering cock. 

“Oh, Felix,” Ashe said. “Felix, if you do that...” 

Felix didn’t let go. He pumped faster. Already, something slick wet his hand. 

Felix kept his eyes open as long as he could, soaking in the sight of Ashe bouncing atop him, riding him into his bed, rolling his hips so forcefully the boxspring creaked beneath them. It was gorgeous, intoxicating, more beautiful than any fantasy Felix’s mind had ever managed to manufacture. His imagination could not come close to the reality before him now, that silvery hair snatching up and reflecting every bit of light, those freckles like flakes of deeper darkness, that breathy voice moaning and gasping and whining for him. 

Something in Felix tightened, like invisible hands had shoved him toward a cliff edge and he was bracing for the impact. His eyes shut of their own accord. He arched, his voice joining Ashe’s. Without the sight of Ashe to fixate on, tight, warm, aching heat closed in all around Felix. 

“Oh,” Ashe started chanting. “Oh, oh, oh--”

Warmth spilled over Felix’s hand. Ashe clenched around him, his body going rigid. His nails bit into Felix’s skin as his back curled. 

Felix thrust, chasing after that edge Ashe had just reached. It barreled toward him. Ashe rocked, coaxing him onward, dragging him toward a dizzying and delirious high. All the muscles Ashe had massaged earlier tightened to breaking, tightened like they were attempting to shatter – and then, finally, they did. 

Felix let out a short cry, his whole body shuddering as release arrived at last. He dug his fingers into Ashe’s thigh, squeezing until the breathless sensation subsided, leaving him a hollow shell. 

He relaxed down, panting, with Ashe atop him. Felix left his eyes shut, even when Ashe eased off him and snuggled up at his side. He was too exhausted to do more than grab the condom before it could make a mess and lay there, his free arm around Ashe, who rested against his chest. 

“Hey,” Ashe said eventually, “thanks.”

Felix laughed. “I should be thanking _you._ ”

“Let’s call it even.”

A grin twisted Felix's mouth. He opened his eyes, glancing at the beautiful, impossible man under his arm. He kissed Ashe’s forehead. “Sure. Even.” 

Ashe snuggled up even closer, draping an arm over Felix’s chest, his silver hair tickling Felix’s nose. “I just wanna stay like this now,” he said, “but we have oil all over us.”

“Not just oil.”

Ashe’s laugh was like bells chiming in Felix’s sternum. “Well, true. Not _just_ oil.” Ashe sighed, his breath warm on Felix’s cooling skin. “But I don’t wanna get up.” 

“Me neither.” 

Felix traced random patterns on Ashe’s back, just enjoying the softness of his skin, the occasional bump of a freckle, the sweat of their exertion. 

“We could clean off together,” Felix murmured. 

Ashe pushed up to look down at him, a giddy smile on his face. “We _could_. If you want.” 

Felix returned Ashe’s grin. He rose up to kiss him. “I want.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hashtag hornsome hashtag yornsome
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) (18+ please).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


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